Becoming Numb
by 9aza
Summary: One of 28 prompts, but it stands alone. While dealing with an Autobot prisoner, Starscream remembers how he lost a part of himself. Cover art by mucun on deviantArt.


A/N: Had this idea in my head since last Friday. First time writing in first person (or is it first mech?) point of view, so sorry if you don't like it. This is just a drabble, I guess, not a hundred percent sure.

Cover art by mucun : / / mucun. deviantart gallery/ ?catpath=scraps&offset=24#/ d37jp43

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**Becoming Numb**

I entered the brig where the prisoner was kept. She looked up at me with her blue fear-filled optics, waiting to hear what I had to say. Beneath that fear though, I noticed, was a faint trace of hope, hope that she was going to be traded for one of our own.

I knew exactly what to say.

"Well, my dear Autobot, it seems that we no longer have any use for you. I'm afraid we have to deactivate you," I said, with false regret.

Her optics widened and she began to plead for her life.

A futile act, if you ask me, I am known for my cruel and ruthless nature after all. Yet here she was begging, hoping that I would show some sign of mercy.

She was wasting her time, and she knew it.

**XXX**

When I first joined the Decepticons, I knew nothing about war. Sure I knew how to defend myself, but I had never killed another mech.

That was why my first assignment, if you could call it that, was so difficult.

I was to be the executioner of a traitor. Funny when I think about it now, but back then it was the most daunting task I had ever been asked to do.

I stood before the traitor, who looked indifferent about the whole ordeal, with a blaster in my servo, my superior officer close by, watching.

I aimed the blaster at the traitor's spark. _He_wouldn't stop pleading me to spare him. I looked at the traitor's optics and I was surprised by what I saw. Instead of fear, in his optics was a look of pity, for me, for what I was about to lose.

I hesitated. I offlined my optics and pulled the trigger.

As the traitor's corpse fell onto the floor, _his_voice grew quieter.

I onlined my optics and saw my superior officer's fist slam against my face. I fell and landed next to the traitor's corpse. I looked at his dark, lifeless optics. I could still see the pity in them.

I learned a lesson that day: hesitation to kill would _not_be accepted in the Decepticon army.

**xxx**

I should have been proud. The city of Praxus had just fallen. The Decepticons have proven how serious we were about this war. How we were willing to take out an entire city to reach our goals... It was necessary and I had killed on the battlefield before without _him_ whining about it. So why wouldn't _he_shut up now?

As I walked around the fallen city, I knew the answer.

Because it was the first time I had killed civilians. Civilians who had done nothing to deserve to be deactivated. Except maybe not choose a side...

I couldn't help but wonder, would my fate have been similar to theirs if I hadn't chosen a side?

I look at their gray corpses and pushed away any feelings of regret and sadness to the back of my processor.

_His_voice becomes weaker.

**xxx**

Why wasn't I prepared for this? I should have known an attack like this would have happened one day...

I had believed the Autobots would never attack this place. That they never could. I was a naïve fool.

_He_cries.

I want to cry too, but I hold back my tears. Decepticons do not cry.

As I watched Vos, _my home_, burn to the ground, I knew what had to be done...

**xxx**

The Autobots my Seekers had captured, all were guilty of what happened to Vos, were all on their knees before me, bound, gagged, and vulnerable.

I gave them my cruelest smirk. I knew what to do.

I walked up to the youngest Autobot, still a youngling I believed, and aimed my null-ray at his spark.

Even though this Autobot was partly responsible for the deaths of so many Seekers, _he_still begs me to spare his life, to spare what little innocence I had left in me.

I ignore _him_and fired.

I had never killed a youngling before, even in Praxus, I had only killed grown mechs and femmes and left the younglings to be dealt with by my comrades.

The Autobots are screaming and cursing my name. I don't pay attention.

No more pleading, just silence.

_He_ was silent, no, _he_was dead.

_He died_with the Autobot youngling.

But I quickly realized that _his_ voice may have been silenced, but I could never truly be rid of _him_.

_His_corpse still rusts inside me.

**xxx**

I can't remember what it was like to not have _him_ inside. I become more aware of _him_every time I torture, every time I maim, and every time I kill.

I sneered at the Autobot femme, begging for her life.

I aimed my null-ray at her spark and fired without hesitation.

I killed her, just like that traitor, just like those Praxian civilians, and just like that Autobot youngling.

Just like I killed everything I was before joining the Decepticons.

I'm dead on the inside now, but I don't care.

I've become numb to the feeling.

* * *

A/N: Not real happy with the ending. But if you liked it, please review.


End file.
